


Two Sides of a Coin: Left Side

by Tsukino_Akume



Series: Two Sides of a Coin [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsukino_Akume/pseuds/Tsukino_Akume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a dream come true. Except it isn't, because it can't possibly be real and he's actually losing his mind. And that makes it even worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Voice in My Head](https://archiveofourown.org/works/914044) by [Tsukino_Akume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsukino_Akume/pseuds/Tsukino_Akume). 



> **Disclaimer/:** If I owned it, Fix-It Fic would not be necessary.  
>  **Warnings/:** Character with PTSD, language  
>  **Author's Notes/:** So when I started this, my muses decided it needed two sides; hence the name. You can read one or the other or both, it doesn't really matter. It's just the way they demanded it be written. I bow to their wisdom.
> 
> I love Mako. She's awesome. But as much as I like her, I needed to write this for my broken heart. (And hopefully someone else's. ^_~)

Life became a routine after the PPDC. Wake up, shower if there was one available, workout, head to work, get through the day, wait in line for rations, go back to whatever hole he was staying in this time, and fall asleep staring at the ceiling, watching Yancy's memories play over and over again in his mind. Rinse and repeat.

He kept to himself and spoke only when he had to. People rarely asked his name, and never seemed to make note of it when they did. Once or twice he passed someone on the street who would do a double-take, but he was always long gone before they could say anything. 

The only person he couldn't ignore or avoid was Yancy. 

It wasn't that he heard his brother's voice all the time. Only at certain points, times of the day when he was distracted or lost in thought. Sometimes when he stared in a mirror, he'd hear a whisper of _Geez, you look like shit._ Working on the wall, moving to stand up, and there'd be a sharp _Watch it! You're leaning too far to the left!_ Or the one - and only - time he'd debated working the night shift, when he'd heard a low growl of _Don't you even think about being that stupid._

The voice was tolerable. It was annoying, persistent at times, and had led to the closest thing he'd had to a complete breakdown since waking up in the hospital after Anchorage on one memorable occasion. But he lived with it. He'd spent eight years dealing with it after all. 

It was the dreams that got to him. 

At night he dreamed of waking up with every nerve on fire, a low voice trying to soothe him through the pain. Of being asked questions he could never remember the answers to. Wandering from city to city, searching for answers. Always wondering why no one was looking for him. 

He kept moving, following work and the wall. Kept putting one foot in front of the other. He wasn't living and couldn't bring himself to care, but he could follow the memory of his brother's voice. _One step after another, Kiddo. Just keep moving._

And then Marshall Pentecost showed up in a helicopter and asked him where he wanted to die. 

It wasn't the question that pushed him to accept. It was the thought that he could die a lot faster if he was in a Jaeger. He could finally stop moving. 

"When do we leave?" 

Pentecost didn't smile, but there was something predatory in his expression. "Now." 

****

The Hong Kong Shatterdome was depressing. Pentecost may have said they were more of a resistance than an army, but that didn't explain the silent animosity between the crews. Herc Hansen's offer to have him sit at his table earned them some stares, both from Striker's crew and the others, but Raleigh couldn't find it in himself to care. Making conversation was still hard, and Herc seemed to understand that. 

He'd known - suspected anyway - that some of Gipsy's old crew would likely be there. He just wasn't sure how he'd be received. He'd failed them after all, destroyed all their hard work and then abandoned them because it still felt like there was a hole in his head and Yancy's voice kept whispering to him to _Go, just go. You need to get your head together, and you can't do that where you are._

Seeing Tendo again was both a relief and painful at the same time. The smile on his face was genuine, and the way Tendo had hugged him back like the past five years had never happened couldn't fix everything, but it made it hurt a little less. Then Tendo was gushing over all the work that had been done, and it felt like he was slipping right back in to where he'd always been. Like he'd never left. 

He could even still hear Yance's voice in his head, just like old times. 

Being face to face with Gipsy again was worse. She was crawling with techs, most of them glancing at him briefly and turning away. It hurt; he still recognized a few. Gipsy herself looked better than ever, like Yancy had never left. Like he could turn a corner, and see his brother chatting up one of the mechanics or flirting with a hot girl from tech. 

He went to bed early that night. "It's been a long day," he lied. 

Miss Mori stared at him, her eyes almost seeming to burn through him. But she finally nodded once. "Of course, Mr. Becket. I will show you to your room." 

****

The co-pilot candidates never seemed to end. One after another, falling to their knees in seconds. Pentecost's lips grew thinner and thinner, Miss Mori's critique harsher. 

Part of him wanted to snap at them. Did they think this was easy, that he was dismissing every possible match on purpose? That he wasn't trying? Hell, he was practically saving these people's lives. If they couldn't read him in a fight, there was no way the Drift would be strong enough. All it would lead to was another dead pilot. 

But he didn't snap. He silently defeated everyone they put up against him, bore the scowls from Miss Mori and Pentecost, the sullen glares from the candidates he defeated, the whispering of the gawking people in the background. He kept his temper and his focus, listening to the part of his head that always seemed to whisper in Yancy's voice _Don't get cocky, Kid. Keep your head. Stay cool._

Eventually they dismissed everyone for the day, and he turned with a sigh to put away his staff and head for the showers and mess. There would be more candidates tomorrow, no matter how dismal a failure today had been. They were all too stubborn to give in, no matter how many times he told them it would never work. 

_You can't start a new Drift when you're still locked in with someone else._

He was making his way through the parted crowd when the left side of his head _tingled_. It was an old, familiar sensation, and he looked up without thinking. 

There was a man at the back of the crowd. Pale-skinned, in the way that anyone who spent most of their time in a Shatterdome was. A long scar distorted the right side of his head, running along his jawline, up to his eyebrow, around and down to his nose in some sort of warped letter 'c'. His hair was long and shaggy, matching the thick beard that covered the lower part of his face. 

Raleigh could feel the blood draining from his face as the man stared back at him. Blue eyes, so painfully familiar, and _God, why did he still see him ***everywhere***?!_

_The hell's the matter with you, Kid? What are you staring at?_

He bolted. 

****

Miss Mori found him later, after he'd puked his guts up for a good twenty minutes. She tried to apologize, saying that she hadn't realized the candidate trials would be so difficult. He brushed her off, insisting he just needed some rest. 

Instead he lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling for hours. The memories drifted through his mind again, both Yancy's and his own. As children, as pilots, their days in the academy, the day he was born. There was no rhyme or reason to it; just brief, lingering moments. All of them connected to his brother. 

Sleep never came that night.


	2. Anger

He gave up on sleep around five in the morning. He was usually up around this time anyway, for training and heading in to work. He figured he could blame it on his head still being in a different time zone if anyone asked about it.

He made it as far as in sight of the doorway to mess before he turned around and walked the other direction. He couldn't stomach food right now. He passed the Kwoon, knew he should probably go in, but found himself walking past that, too. He wasn't sure what it was he wanted until he found himself stopping in front of Striker Eureka. 

The design was similar to Gipsy Danger, he noted, but Striker sat lower and seemed bulkier. Broader shoulders, thicker chest and legs. All of Gipsy's power, but none of her grace. 

"It's not a good idea to get caught checking out someone else's ride, you know." 

The voice was calm, almost conversational. Raleigh went rigid the moment it reached his ears. 

"Personally I don't have a problem with it, but there's been some issues between crews." 

He swallowed, trying to find his voice. "Why is that, anyway?" he managed finally, sounding oddly thick. _Stop it_ , he snarled at himself silently. _Pull yourself together. You're just projecting his face onto some poor guy who doesn't even want to know what the hell's wrong with you._

There was a quiet chuckle. "Hell if I know. Personal pride, maybe. Guess we're all a little too proud of our boys." 

The voice was rougher than the one he remembered, the one he still heard every day. He focused on that, and used the knowledge to convince himself to turn around. "Gipsy's a girl," he pointed out. 

The man shrugged, giving a slight half-smile that pulled at the thick scar. "To each their own." 

Seeing him face to face again didn't make it any easier. The voice was still rough, like the man had a sore throat, his hair was still too long and his face was scruffy and scarred. In fact that only thing about him that looked like Yancy was his eyes. 

But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was looking at his brother. It wasn't, and he knew that. The thought was still a vicious squeeze to his heart and a painful stab to the part of his mind that always felt empty. 

He must have been silent for too long, because the man's eyes narrowed slightly. "Sorry," he said abruptly. "Didn't realize you had a problem talking to mechanics." 

He was gone before Raleigh could manage a word of protest. Instead he stood there for several minutes, staring after him stupidly. Finally he shook himself hard, turned around, and headed back toward the Kwoon. 

It wasn't until much later that he realized he'd automatically reached out to stop the man from leaving. 

****

His nerves were shot for the rest of the day, and his concentration was shit. He still defeated everyone Miss Mori put in front of him, but they were fights rather than tests. He couldn't read anyone and barely managed to try, defeating them all practically on autopilot. 

Pentecost looked ready to blow steam out of his ears, and Mori had began to visibly show her displeasure. It grated on him on top of everything else, until this time he ***did*** snap. "What?" he demanded, whipping around to glare at her. "You got a better idea of how to do this?" 

Her eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?" 

"Every time I beat someone, you make this little ... " He jerked his head to the side, making a face, "Gesture. There something you want to say to me?" 

For a long moment, he thought she wouldn't. But eventually her fingers tightened on her clipboard, just briefly. "This is not a fight, Mr. Becket," she said at last, her tone short. "You are meant to find your compatibility with your opponent, not to defeat them." 

The tone of her voice, the judgment, the condescension ... It was too much, and he threw his staff to the side as his temper finally broke. "Then find me someone who's actually compatible!" he shouted back. "What the hell am I even doing here?! Your little tests are a joke!" 

" ***Mr. Becket***!" Pentecost roared. "You are out of line!" 

His jaw clenched, and he tried to reign himself in. "I'm sorry," he managed at last, giving a short, tight bow to Mori. "But this isn't working. And I'm pretty sure it never will." 

The crowd still parted for him when he headed for the door, and no one tried to stop him. 

****

Gipsy's hanger had been somewhat of a safe haven for him back when he'd been a pilot. It was the one place he could go and actually be left alone. There were always crew nearby, but they generally left him alone unless he was in someone's way. Yancy hated it, always worried that he'd end up falling and breaking his neck, but even he had to admit it was better than one of them locking the other out of their room for some space. 

This time he'd found a spot high up on the back of Gipsy's neck, just behind the left side of her head. No one had really seemed to notice him, but he doubted anyone would have cared if they had. Idly he wondered how long it would take before Pentecost would give up on his crazy idea to re-commission Gipsy and shove him out the door. 

"That's a really stupid place to be sitting." 

It actually took him a moment to realize that the voice had come from just above him, and not inside his head. He looked up at the catwalk, blinking. "What?" 

The Striker mechanic from before - whose name he still didn't know - was leaning against the railing looking down at him. "That's a stupid place to be sitting," he repeated. "You could break your neck if you slip." 

"That's rich coming from a guy who makes a living climbing all over one of these," he retorted automatically. 

Surprisingly, the man only raised his good eyebrow, seeming amused. "That's why ***we*** wear harnesses," he drawled. 

_"The mechanics climb around on her all the time, Yance. It's perfectly safe."_

_"And ***they*** wear harnesses, genius. Now get your ass down from there!"_

He didn't even realize he was clenching his fists until they started to hurt. 

"Sorry." The mechanic's tone was short. "Forgot myself there." 

"Wait." He tried to scramble to his feet as the man turned away. "Wait!" His foot slipped, and he flailed as his balance shifted too far to the left. 

A hand snapped out, catching his wrist and yanking him up to the catwalk. "Shit, Kid! You trying to get yourself killed?!" 

The word 'kid' made him flinch, and the mechanic turned away with a sigh. "Right. Sorry. Just be more careful next time. We can't afford to lose guys like you these days." 

" ***Wait***!" He managed to catch the man's wrist this time. He spun around surprisingly fast, and Raleigh shifted his weight to his back leg warily, not sure if he was about to be punched. "I'm sorry," he said carefully, easing his hand off the man's wrist. "I don't have a problem with crewmen. I'm sorry if I ever gave you that impression." 

The mechanic remained unimpressed. "So it's just me you don't like, then. Good to know." 

"It's not that!" he argued. He huffed in irritation, glancing to the side as he took a breath to calm himself. "I just ... you remind me of someone. That's all." 

The man nodded slowly, his face unreadable. "Sorry about that, then. I'll leave you in peace, Kiddo." 

He flinched again, trying to ignore the fresh stab of pain the word gave him. "Please don't call me that." It was barely a whisper, but he saw the man pause, just barely glancing back at him. "I, uh ... Just ... don't." 

He got a slow nod in return. "Sorry." 

He watched him walk away for a moment before he found himself calling after him. "Hey. What's your name, anyway?" 

The man glanced back, raising his good eyebrow again, and he wondered briefly if he couldn't use the other one. "Jon Wasser." 

He forced a smile, hoping it seemed friendly. "Raleigh Becket. And thanks." 

Wasser nodded, and went on his way.


	3. Bargaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a note, despite what it might sound like at one point here, I'm not planning on any pairings for this/these stories at the moment. That may or may not change in the future; I dunno yet. If/when it does, it'll probably be in a sequel.
> 
> Jon's last name is snagged from Google Translate; the pronunciation is my understanding of how they say it there. I made a horrible, mangled attempt at writing a Russian accent, because it didn't feel right without one. ~~Please don't kill me.~~ I also tried to give the Wei triplets some sort of individual personalities. I haven't seen anything official for them, so I went by facial expressions in the all of four pictures I have.

The next morning, Raleigh woke up on a mission.

The problem, he decided, was that he didn't know Jon Wasser. He couldn't convince himself that the man wasn't Yancy because he had no reason to stop comparing him to his brother. Once he took some time to learn more about him, he'd be able to see Wasser as himself. 

He quickly discovered that his solution had two problems: first of all, Jon Wasser was a damn hard man to find. Apparently he was rarely in mess, and even most of his own crew could only offer 'He's probably hanging around Striker somewhere' when he asked - if they even answered all. The second problem was that Miss Mori seemed to have taken personal offense to his demand that she find him someone compatible, and was determined to prove him wrong. 

He spent the morning weeding through the last of her candidates, was relieved long enough to grab lunch, and ordered back to the Kwoon for more testing - this time with ***every*** potential pilot. It was the exactly disaster he'd expected it would be. His matches with Herc Hansen and Marshall Pentecost both ended with his ass getting handed to him. Sparring with the Kaidonovskis left him battered, bruised, and dizzy, and after the lady Kaidonovski, feeling extremely lucky to still have his balls intact. The Wei Triplets were kind enough to at least take him on one-on-one instead of all at the same time, but he faired about as well as he had with the Kaidonovskis. He easily held his own with the younger Hansen - which clearly pissed the kid off - but there wasn't any compatibility between them. 

He was a little startled when Miss Mori stepped forward, but he took it in stride. She was good, better than he'd expected. Given the chance he could see she'd make a good pilot. And there was ***something*** there between them; compatibility or something else, he wasn't quite sure. 

They were at four and four when a sharp stab of firey pain shot through his left hand. He yelped, dropping his staff and rolling out of the way of the incoming strike before it could catch him in the neck. Mori backed off immediately, while he turned to stare at his hand in confusion, hissing slightly as he tried to shake the tingling from his fingers. "Shit!" 

Mori frowned, lowering her staff hesitantly. "Are you all right, Mr. Becket?" 

"Yeah," he muttered distractedly, still staring at his hand in confusion. "Yeah, I'm fine." He shook himself, moving to grab for the staff again. 

"I think ... that is enough for today," she said slowly. "We will try again tomorrow." 

He blinked at her, surprised. "I - uh, sure." Abruptly remembering his manners, he stepped back and bowed. "Thank you for the match, Miss Mori." 

"You as well, Mr. Becket," she murmured. 

He took his time straightening up the Kwoon and grabbing a shower. He felt stiff and sore, and really, he had nowhere he was in a hurry to be. He still wanted to find Wasser, but it was nearly dinner already, so he might as well wait until after to find him. 

Grabbing a tray, he made his way through the line slowly, lost in thought. His hand still ached, so he ended up bracing the tray on his left arm and grabbing things with his right. He wasn't all that hungry, but he couldn't afford to skip again. 

He managed to snag a table to himself in the corner, picking absently at his food. 

The sound of trays landing around him startled him out of his thoughts. He blinked in surprise as the Kaidonovskis and Wei triplets took seats around him. "Uh ... did I miss a memo I should know about?" 

One of the triplets nodded at him in greeting. "How's the hand?" 

He shrugged. "Hurts," he said honestly. 

"May I see?" Lady Kaidonovski asked, holding out her own. 

He offered it, glancing at the others in confusion. The triplets were already digging into their trays, but they kept eyeing him every once in awhile. Lady Kaidonovski's co-pilot openly watched his partner as she studied Raleigh's hand intently. 

"So do I pass?" he asked wryly, quirking an eyebrow. 

She didn't look up. "Ze pain. Vat is ze feeling?" 

He frowned, considering. "Kinda tingles. Felt like a flash burn at first." He paused, frowning deeper. "Actually, it kind of feels like the first time I gave myself a welding burn." 

She let him go. "Zere is no'zing vrong vith your hand." 

Her partner nudged her, raising an eyebrow. 

"No'zing on ze surface," she corrected. 

He gave her an odd look. "You mean it's psychological?" _Gee, thanks._

"In a manner of speaking," she said vaguely. 

"Haven't actually introduced ourselves, have we?" one of the triplets spoke up abruptly. He offered a wicked grin. "Hu." He gestured to his brothers, who each nodded at him. "Cheung, and Jin." 

"There's no way I'm gonna remember that later," Raleigh informed them. 

Hu laughed. Cheung looked vaguely amused. Jin didn't smile at all. 

Raleigh made mental notes. 

"Is it true?" Jin asked abruptly. "What they say about your brother's death?" 

He stilled. "Which part?" 

"You were still connected when he died," Cheung explained. 

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. _It's a fair question_ , he told himself. _It's something that could happen to any of us - them. Any of them._ "Yes," he said finally. His voice was rougher than he'd like. 

Jin looked like he wanted to ask more, but Cheung nudged him, and he scowled at his plate instead. 

Oddly enough, it was Kaidonovski who reached over to pat his good arm. "I am Aleksis," he offered quietly. "She is Sasha." 

He managed a smile, but it was weak. "Raleigh Becket," he returned. "It's an honor to meet all of you." 

Aleksis looked solemn. "Ze honor is ours." 

They all fell silent after that, focusing on their meals. Raleigh picked at his absently, barely tasting any of it. He kept getting lost in his thoughts, wondering about where Wasser might be. 

And then he took a huge bite of mac n' cheese and gagged. 

He spent several minutes hacking and trying to cough the foul stuff into his napkin. He downed the last of his juice, scowled at the empty box, and seriously contemplated grabbing another napkin to scrape off his tongue. _You'd think they'd try to improve this shit with time, but I think it's even ***worse*** than it used to be._

He looked up at the sound of chuckling. "What?" he demanded. 

"Not a fan?" Hu mocked, nodding to his tray. 

He made a face. " ***Real*** macaroni and cheese? Yes. Whatever this crap is? No." 

"Vhy did you take it zen?" Sasha asked, tiliting her head and eyeing him with a strange look on her face. 

He paused. After a moment, he closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "It was Yancy's favorite," he said shortly, grabbing his tray and heading for the door. 

****

He found Wasser sitting on a catwalk, staring at Striker with his usual blank expression. He took a deep breath, forced a smile to his face, and strode toward him. "Hey! Wasser!" 

Wasser glanced at him, his eyebrow narrowing a little. "It's 'va-sah'." 

His expression wasn't exactly friendly, but Raleigh ignored it, giving a sheepish grin. "Ah, sorry. Must have misunderstood you yesterday. That's German, isn't it?" 

Wasser turned, leveling him with a flat stare. "What do you want, Becket?" 

He shrugged, trying to look casual. "We got off on the wrong foot before, and I was hoping to change that." 

"Bullshit." 

He blinked. "Excuse me?" 

"You're lying," Wasser informed him flatly. "What do you really want?" 

He started to sputter something, but Wasser kept staring at him, like he could see straight through him. Finally he gave up with a sigh. "Look, I wasn't kidding when I said you remind me of someone. I was hoping if we took some time to get to know each other, I might - " _Stop seeing his face every time I look at you?_ "It might help," he finished lamely. 

For a long moment, he thought Wasser would blow him off. But then he sighed, turning to lean back against the railing. "What do you wanna know?" 

Raleigh grinned brightly at him, relieved. "Well, first off, what happened to your hand?" He nodded at the thick bandage around Wasser's left palm. 

It was hard to say how long they stood there talking. He learned that Wasser was from Alaska, but that was where the similarities between him and Yancy ended. Wasser was from Kenai, they were from Anchorage. He'd worked in computers and fishing before signing on with Striker's crew in Sydney. He wasn't much of a people person - too much staring, he said, gesturing to his face - but he was proudest of the work he'd done since joining the Jaeger program. 

He'd told himself that once he knew Wasser, the feeling that reminded him so much of Yancy would be gone. Except that it wasn't. If anything, he felt more relaxed around the other man than he'd felt around anyone in years. He couldn't explain it; there was just something calming about him. 

"Oi! Becket!" 

They both turned at the voice. Chuck Hansen stalked toward them along the catwalk, radiating pissiness. "Ya botherin' my tech?!" 

"I'm not bothering him - " Raleigh tried to protest. 

"We're just having a conversation, Ranger Hansen," Wasser told him calmly. "It's fine." 

But Hansen had stopped five feet away from them and was openly staring. 

Raleigh frowned, glancing at Wasser to see him glancing back. "Something wrong, Hansen?" 

Hansen's mouth worked soundlessly for a minute. He turned suddenly, yelling at one of the mechanics below. " ***Oi***! Venrick! Get my dad and the Marshall up 'ere! Now!" 

He looked back at the two of them, swallowing awkwardly. "They're gonna wanna see this," he muttered, looking faintly green.


	4. Depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and its Right Side counterpart turned out very different, so I'd recommend reading both if you want the full story.
> 
> I'm guessing if Newt has the skills and technology to compare DNA on Kaiju samples, he could probably do some testing on humans standing in front of him. At least that's the excuse I'm going with.
> 
> The name switching is not a typo.

_"It's official, Sir." Newt somehow managed to look solemn and eager at the same time, in the way only Newt could pull off. "DNA analysis shows that Ranger Becket and Jon - er, Mr. Wasser are a match. They're related." He took a deep breath, trying not to bounce where he stood and failing. "I can't exactly compare Jon's - er, Mr. Wasser's DNA to Yancy Becket himself, but all his physical characteristics and known genetic markers match, so unless Raleigh's got a half-brother somewhere we didn't know about - "_

_"The ***point*** , Dr. Geiszler."_

_" - He ***is*** Yancy Becket."_

The funny thing about having exactly what you've always wanted suddenly given to you without any effort whatsoever on your part, Raleigh reflected, was that it made it seem less real. He'd seen the results on the screen. Watched every single person who saw him walking down the hall next to Wasser as they followed Pentecost stop to stare. He had the DNA analysis _in his hand_ , because Newt had given it to him for some reason and he'd just sort of muttered something that he hoped was a thank you and wandered off. 

Yancy was alive. Yancy was _Wasser_ , a man Raleigh couldn't seem to get along with and had to go out of his way to find anytime he wanted to talk to him. A man he'd tried to convince himself wasn't his brother, because it wasn't possible. Except it was possible. Which meant all the doctors and well-meaning friends who'd kept telling him he was wrong when he said he could still feel his brother were the ones who were wrong, and fuck, _Why did I let them convince me?!_

He dropped his head back against Gipsy Danger with a soft clang, sighing in frustration. After a moment he reached out to pat her in apology. "Sorry, girl," he murmured. 

When the answering sigh came from above him, for a moment he wasn't sure if it was a memory or not until he actually spoke. "You really have a deathwish, don't you?" 

"Mechanics don't get to criticize me for doing exactly what they do everyday," he retorted, even as his heart began to pound. 

"Again, ***harnesses***." 

Fuck, what was he supposed to say? What should he ***do***? Should he treat him like his brother? Should he treat him like Wasser, since he couldn't remember being Yancy? What the hell was the protocol for this? 

There was a large, gusty sigh above him. "So I'm guessing we're - we weren't close, then." 

The words didn't actually didn't register for a moment. Then his brain caught up and his jaw dropped. " _What?!_ " 

_Flickers of light in the darkness, Mom laughing in the background - "Happy birthday, Yance!" - A sleepy mumble next to him. "Best. Birthday. Ever."_

_Stumbling after his brother, trying to make his legs move faster - "Yancy, wait! Wait up!" - on his hands and knees in the dirt trying desperately not to cry - Yancy leaning over him, looking concerned. "You okay, Rals?"_

_Blood dripping from his lip, fists clenched as he tried to see out of his good eye - "What's the matter, Becket? Can't take it?" - Yancy gently correcting his punch again, carefully avoiding his bruises - "You can take that pansy, Kiddo. Nothing to it."_

_"I can't stand back and watch this anymore, Rals. I'm going to do something about it. I'm going to become a Ranger." - "Of course you are. And I'm going to be one with you."_

_"Yancy? ... Are you ... are you awake?" - "'nother nightmare?" A yawn. "Come on, get in." - "You're too old to be crawling into your brother's bed because of a nightmare, Raleigh." - "Dad doesn't know what he's talking about. It's fine. Now hurry up, you're letting the cold air in."_

_Staring at the tombstone long after everyone had left - "What do we do now, Yance? We're ... we're all alone." - "What do you mean alone? We still got each other, don't we? I'll take care of you, Kiddo."_

_"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" - "I'm in your head. I know."_

He pushed back the sudden surge of memories, trying to focus. Then he blinked. The last thing he knew, he was standing on Gipsy Danger; now he was standing on the catwalk just above her head. There was an arm around him, an iron grip on his right wrist, and he was staring at a shoulder. 

"New rule," Yancy - Wasser - _Yancy_ breathed. "I'm going to talk to every mechanic and tech and Ranger in the Shatterdome, and let them know that you are not ***ever*** allowed to climb on Gipsy again." 

He blinked slowly, still trying to process exactly how he'd gotten to the catwalk. "What about with a harness?" 

" ***Ever***." 

He was still looking at the shoulder when the arm suddenly tensed, as if Wasser - ***Yancy*** , damn it - had suddenly realized they were not-exactly hugging. Which is what made Raleigh realize that it probably should have been weird. Except it kind of wasn't. 

It was a lesser known fact of life in the Jaeger program that Rangers became increasingly more tactile with their co-pilot over time. It was a combination of 'Drift Hangovers' as they called it - the groggy separation phase that sometimes came after leaving a drift - and the bond the Drift created. He'd gotten so used to leaning on, hanging on, even sleeping on his older brother, that it was natural. They'd been affectionate as kids, but once they'd become pilots, it had reached a whole new level. 

Standing here now, with Wasser, wasn't weird. It felt exactly the same as when Yancy held on to him. The strong mental connection they'd had wasn't there, not anymore - he'd spent too long trying to suppress it, and Wasser probably couldn't even remember it - but the feelings, the warmth, even the ***smell*** ... All of it was Yancy. 

He closed his eyes, lifted his arms, and squeezed his brother as tight as he could. 

He wasn't sure how long he clung to him, but his eyes were wet when he finally let go, and he had to turn away for a minute to wipe at them. "Sorry," he mumbled, sniffling slightly. 

"It's ... don't worry about it." 

Wasser shifted a little, and Raleigh glanced back as he cleared his throat. "You didn't answer my question." 

He blinked, trying to remember, and frowned as it came to him. "Of course we're - we were close. We're ***brothers***." 

Wasser gave him an odd look, tilting his head. "You don't seem all that happy." 

He nearly choked. "I - of ***course*** I'm ***happy***! Fuck! Why would you - " He turned away, running a hand over his hair as he tried to calm himself down. 

Wasser didn't say anything, but the silence was damning enough. 

Raleigh closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. "Five years," he said finally, his voice low. He wasn't sure he'd be able to keep it from breaking if he spoke any louder. "Five years of getting by, not knowing who you were, no one looking for you ... " He forced himself to look at him, even though his eyes were burning. "Don't you hate me for that?" 

Wasser looked startled. "Hate you?" he echoed. 

"I should've ***known***!" he exploded. "I should've - damn it, I could fucking hear your thoughts from the other side of town, and I couldn't tell you were ***alive***?! What the hell is wrong with me? What kind of brother am I? I should've - I should have been ***looking*** , I should've - I ... " He faltered, blinking rapidly. "I didn't believe it, at first. I kept saying you couldn't be dead. But they kept telling me ... Everyone, the doctors, the techs, the fucking ***Coast Patrol*** told me it wasn't possible. You were dead. There was nothing I could have done, it wasn't my fault, you died fighting the good fight ... " He waved a hand dismissively, wiping at his eyes again. "And I let them win. I let them convince me that you were dead, and Gipsy was unsalvageable, and ... " 

"And what?" Yancy asked quietly. 

He closed his eyes again, swallowing hard. "And I gave up," he finished, his voice finally cracking. "I failed, and I gave up." 

_I gave up and waited to die._

" ... What asshole told you that you failed?" 

The corner of his mouth quirked a little, because of course he'd latch on to that. "No one. No one had to, I mean it's obvious isn't it Yance?" 

He paused, wincing, and mentally kicking himself in the head. "Sorry. I, uh ... I don't know what I should call you now." 

Wasser shrugged a little, frowning. "Not sure what I want to be called either," he admitted. "Jon's just ... well, when they don't know what what to call you, you're a John Doe." 

Raleigh winced, wondering why he hadn't figured that out sooner. 

"I hated the idea of using it for the rest of my life, so I gave myself a last name." 

"Why Wasser?" 

He shrugged again. "Doc said I was 'born from the water'. Seemed a good a name as any." 

"Yancy Alden Becket." 

He turned to stare, and Raleigh tried not to smile. "You're shitting me." 

"Nope. That's what the birth certificate says." 

"Tell me yours is worse." 

"Oscar. After your favorite character from Sesame Street. Mom said you insisted." His smile slipped a little. 

His brother stared at him for a long moment. "Tell me about her."


	5. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't intended to have the other pilots come back for this chapter, but what can you do? They're all so adorable together. ♥
> 
> Yes, this is the last chapter. But fear not! There shall be an epilogue to help wrap things up. ^_~

They gave him three days alone with his brother to get to know each other again. To the military, three days was practically an eternity. For Raleigh and Jon, three days were gone as soon as they'd started.

_How do you tell someone who they are in three days?_ he wondered as he made his way through the breakfast line. _How do you get to know someone in that time? ***Really*** know them?_

For all the time they'd spent talking, he still felt like he barely knew Jon. He was Yancy, but he wasn't. And trying to figure out how he should act with him was confusing. 

_Painful_ , he admitted to himself, sighing as he grabbed a seat at an empty table. _He's not Yance, and I can't treat him like he is._

The words had been his mantra over the past few days, but that didn't make them any easier to follow. 

He didn't even bother looking up when the trays clattered around him this time. "You guys suck," he informed them all, pausing to take a bite of applesauce. He swallowed. "Just so you know." 

"Wouldn't be the first time we've heard that," Hu returned cheerfully. 

"Usually it's the techs," Cheung agreed. 

"Or Hansen," Jin murmured, sounding smug. 

Hu snorted. "Hansen thinks everyone sucks." He was clearly about to add something else, but he grunted as Cheung elbowed him hard, leveling him with a look, and fell silent. 

Sasha leveled Raleigh with an unreadable stare. "Vould you have believed, had ve told you?" 

He opened his mouth to argue and sighed. "No," he muttered. "I wouldn't." 

Aleksis reached over to pat his hand. "Ve are glad for the return of your _rodstvennuyu dushu, tovarishch_. All of us." 

He blinked at him. "My ... what?" 

" _Xīnxīnxiāngyìn_ ," Hu offered helpfully. 

He glared at him, rolling his eyes when all three triplets grinned at him toothily. 

"Rangers," came a quiet voice from the end of the table. Mori nodded to them all in greeting before her gaze settled on Raleigh. "Ranger Becket, you have been ordered to report to the Drivesuit Room after breakfast for practice run." 

He dropped his fork, staring at her as he straightened in his seat. "Wait, ***what***? Who the hell am I supposed to Drift with?" 

Mori hesitated, her eyes flickering away. "After breakfast, Ranger Becket," she repeated, giving a short bow. 

****

"This is a bad idea," Raleigh said firmly. "This is a very, very, ***bad*** idea." 

"You don't have to tell me," Jon muttered next to him. 

"Why are we even doing this? Hasn't anyone thought about the possible side effects? I mean - " 

"Raleigh," Jon cut in, shooting him a glare. "I get it." 

He fell silent, feeling guilty. He hadn't meant to scare Jon, but seriously, what was Pentecost ***thinking***?! Jon's mind was basically a blank slate right now. What if something went wrong? His memory had already been damaged: what if the Drift made it worse? What if it wiped the last five years? That was all the memory he had left; what would happen if it was taken from him too? Christ, he could be _brain dead_. 

What if the problem wasn't Jon - what if it was ***him***? The doctors said he'd been damaged by the broken Drift when Yancy - when they'd last fought together. What if they couldn't Drift because his brain couldn't handle it? What if he hurt Jon trying this? What if - 

" _Raleigh_. Shut. Up." 

He shut up. 

He still felt shaky by the time they finally walked into Gipsy Danger. "You uh," he swallowed painfully. "You mind if I take the right side? My left arm doesn't work so good anymore." 

Jon shrugged, looking indifferent. "Sure." 

It felt _wrong_ getting into the right side, though. Right side was where the lead pilot stood - where ***Yancy*** stood. Traditionally even though both pilots worked together, it was the pilot on the right who called out the orders and generally took charge. Every time he'd stepped in a Jaeger, it was Yancy's place. That was the way it was supposed to be. 

_But ... things really aren't the way they're supposed to be anymore now, are they?_

"Hey." 

He glanced to his left, where Jon offered him a slight smile. "Relax, Kid. We got this." 

He tried to smile back. He felt like he was going to puke. 

_"All right there boys, you hear me?"_

He keyed into the com system. "Loud and clear, Brother." He paused, realizing what he'd said, and winced, hoping Jon wouldn't mind. 

_"All right then, let's do this. Initiating neural handshake in 3 ... 2 ... 1."_

Fire ***stabbed*** through his head, and his brain started to leak out through his ears. 

_"Ready to step inside my head kid?"_

_Raleigh! "Raleigh, listen to me! You have to - "_

_"You're damn lucky to be alive, son. Didn't think you'd make it when they brought you in, not with the shape you were in. You've been out for a month now."_

_"So what'll you call yourself?"_

_"I was thinking ... Wasser. Jon Wasser." "Wasser, eh? I'm honored."_

_Staring at the television in the window, showing two men in armor that felt familiar in a way ***nothing*** ever had before. " - young pilot of Striker Eureka, Chuck Hansen, and his father - "_

_"We've all got scars, Mate. Some just aren't as visible as others."_

_The Ranger was staring at him, pale and wide-eyed. He looked like he'd seen a ghost._

_"Sorry. Didn't realize you had a problem talking to mechanics."_

_Raleigh. What a weird name._

_" - He ***is*** Yancy Becket."_

_No, I'm not. I'm Jon. I'm just ... just Jon._

His throat hurt, and someone was yelling at him. 

_Yance?_

_... Yeah. I'm here, Kiddo._

_***Shit*** , that hurt._

_Tell me about it._

He shook his head slowly, trying to get his thoughts in order. _What the hell happened? And where are we?_

_I'm still a bit fuzzy on the details, but I know we're in Gipsy. And I'm thinking we need to kill Pentecost._

_Seconded._

_" ***Gipsy***! Raleigh, Jon, can you hear me!?"_

He swallowed a few times, trying to get his voice to work. "Yeah," he croaked finally. "We hear you, Tendo. We're ... we're all right." 

_"What the hell happened?!"_

"I think Gipsy gave us both a sledgehammer to the head, that's what happened," Yancy groused. 

Raleigh looked over to see he'd dropped to one knee, holding his head. "You all right?" he asked. 

And that's when he remembered that his brother wasn't supposed to know who he was. Wasn't supposed to talk in his head. Wasn't supposed to answer to the name Yancy anymore. Except that he was. And he did. 

"Yeah. I'm all right. Everything's good." Yancy looked up, catching his eyes. _We'll talk about it later, Rals._

The whisper in his mind was gentle but solid, not dream-like at all. _Affection_ and _reassurance_ eased through him, and he soaked it up like a sponge, blinking back tears. "Yance - " 

_Later, Kiddo. I promise. We got a test to finish._

He forced himself to nod, managing a smile that was more than a little teary. "Right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation Notes:
> 
> _rodstvennuyu dushu_ : soulmate  
>  _tovarishch_ : comrade  
>  _Xīnxīnxiāngyìn_ : soulmate
> 
> (Yes, I kind of have a thing that co-pilots tend to think of each other as soulmates in a non-romantic sense.)


End file.
